The Count's Heir (2)
Claire Rackton was dressed in a light, flowing gown. It was the kind of feminine attire suited to noblewomen, but it somehow felt off. Not that it didn't suit her—visually, it was hard to imagine anything fitting her better. Yet she seemed unaccustomed to such clothing, her posture stiff and unnatural. The airy, lively dress seemed to weigh down her shoulders. If the rumors were true, she was more at home in armor, so it made sense.
"Thank you for responding to such a sudden request for a meeting, Professor Atwill. It's an honor to meet you."
"No need. Nice to meet you."
I hadn't even prepared a proper greeting, let alone basic etiquette, so I was caught off guard. Frozen in surprise, I just went through the motions to get past the awkwardness as smoothly as possible. Once my startled heart settled, I finally had a chance to observe her.
Up close, her face was strikingly similar to Stella's. Her current serious expression made her seem very different, but if she smiled brightly, she'd look just like Stella. They had to be sisters. The age gap wasn't obvious at a glance, but since Stella was the eldest, this must be her younger sister. The sister was more composed, while the elder was so scatterbrained that it almost seemed reversed.
"I heard you specifically requested me."
"Yes. There's something I'd like you to handle, Professor Atwill."
Lively and boisterous Stella versus calm and quiet Claire. The sister who never erased her eye smile versus the one with a hardened gaze and expression. The mage with calluses on her ink-stained fingers versus the knight with them etched into her sword-grip palm. Despite the resemblance, you could tell at a glance she wasn't Stella—the atmospheres were too different. Sisters, but alike only in looks.
She'd arranged this meeting, yet hadn't gotten to the point. Should I bring it up first?
"So, what brings you here?"
"As you heard, it's a commission involving a sword."
"Why me, though?"
"My sister talks about you a lot, Professor Atwill."
Claire confirmed my guess. No bad timing for negativity, so why this unease?
"She says your lectures are excellent. That you explain things so they really sink in."
I let out a quiet sigh of relief. Her sister was such an unpredictable girl, after all.
"You're too kind. Stella's a bright student; she picks things up quickly."
"She's always been a great student since she was little. No one in our family has her magical talent."
I'd planned to scold her to focus on studies instead of nonsense, so I'd checked her grades from last year. Surprisingly, Stella Rackton had topped the department.
"But she's never singled out a teacher or professor by name like that. It means you're the best instructor she's ever had."
The praise was almost burdensome. I wondered if I could take it at face value.
"And that was in just a week. Maybe because of that preconception, I already have a great impression of you."
"Maybe I just click well with your sister."
"Oh dear. Your impression of me just soured."
"Ah, I thought sisters took after each other. Good thing that's not the case. Forget what I said."
Gossip's the best icebreaker, as expected. It worked several times better than her beautiful first impression. And I could tell right away: she was trying to get on friendly terms with me.
I wanted to gossip more about Stella, but playing along indefinitely wasn't wise. I waved my hand decisively, perhaps a bit rudely.
Hmm... it'd be nice if we had time to bond over that after the business.
"So, what's the commission? Your sister always beats around the bush for ages before getting to the point. I don't want to see that similarity between you two."
Claire's face stiffened briefly, but she didn't seem offended. Like Stella was more mage than noble, Claire was warrior over lady. She didn't want to waste time on needless sparring either.
"They say you have an impressive enchanted weapon."
Claire dropped the clumsy noble speak and got straight to it. There's no younger sibling like an elder, they say—but not for these two.
"Sorry, but it's not for sale. Can't lend it out. And no copying, obviously."
This wasn't just my preference.
"No, sorry. You misunderstood. I just want a sword. Not that sword."
"A magic sword, then. Enchantment commission?"
"Yes, exactly. You catch on quick."
Stella's first overture to me had been about a magic sword too. Did she scout for her sister? Who knew she had that thoughtful side.
"What spell do you want enchanted?"
"Well... it's hard to say, but nothing specific."
What now? The client doesn't even know what they want?
"Explain in detail."
"I don't know much about magic. I can handle mana, but spells? No clue. So I don't know what to engrave."
"What kind of sword do you want? You must have some idea."
"It's a sword, so as long as it handles well, cuts sharp, and is sturdy—that's enough."
Just Hardening and Sharpening? That's basic. No need for a magic university professor. Any forge sells pre-enchanted ones.
"Odd. You wouldn't need to come to me for that."
"The fee is 50 gold coins. 20 upfront as deposit. You keep the deposit regardless of success."
"I'll take it."
Damn! The words slipped out at the price. Not something to accept instantly!
"...Thank you. This'll go quickly, then."
Claire was a bit flustered by my lightning response. This damn mouth. I'd blurted without thinking because the terms were that generous. A sword with hardening and sharpening wouldn't cost 10 gold. And 20 upfront? What?
"I didn't expect you'd accept so readily."
Me neither. Suspiciously good deals need questioning first, not snapping up. No taking it back now, so stay calm and probe.
"The terms are too generous. Makes me wonder—why so much?"
"You don't like it?"
"Of course not. But big money means big catches, right?"
"Yes, actually... No! Nothing like that."
Claire Rackton clearly wasn't used to this either. Her late denial was as good as confessing. Just as she hadn't expected my quick yes, I hadn't anticipated her spilling so easily. Her face was full of regret. Was mine like that earlier? No point pressing now; she'd clam up. Time to switch topics and ease the mood.
"Oh, before that—a question."
"What?"
"I heard you're the heir now. But..."
Our brief talk today made it clear: she wasn't raised as one. Stella said she was the eldest of three sons and three daughters. So Claire's succession rank was at best fifth of six. How'd she become heir?
But I couldn't finish. The worst possible person arrived at the worst time.
"Huh? Claire! Already here? I told you to message first... Oh, Professor! Professor!"
I couldn't tell which frustrated me more: the interrupted talk or no chance to gossip about her later.
*
"Sis, I said I called her..."
"You met? How is she? How?"
"How what?"
"Our professor, duh! Just like I said, right?"
I dreaded what she'd said about me. No point asking; she'd dodge. She was whispering now, glancing my way—annoying my nerves.
"Rackton, I'm talking to Claire right now..."
"Huh? I'm Rackton too—why's she Claire?"
"Two Racktons; gotta distinguish."
"Then call me Stella! I met you first anyway. Unfair!"
"Enough. Student-professor; we keep it professional."
"You call Senior Arienael by nickname! Who's not professional?"
"Lab assistant's different."
"Just use my name. Or... aha, she's special, huh?"
Damn, this is maddening! Didn't Stella set this up? Why sabotage it? Does she even realize?
Claire looked flustered. Not part of the plan. Seeing her flail under Stella's whims gave me a twinge of solidarity. If this was Stella's aim, it worked perfectly. I felt closer to Claire than during our gossip.
"Professor! What do you think?"
"Of what?"
"Claire, obviously! Like me, so cute and pretty, right?"
"Contradiction there."
"Wahhh... Working with that elf daily, my face doesn't even register. So sad."
"Sis, please... stop..."
Claire was more mortified than me. Makes sense—family versus stranger.
I couldn't keep up either.
"Oh, right. Department head's looking for you, Professor?"
"Me? No way."
"Yes."
We just talked about that, and now again?
"Claire and I'll have a touching reunion. Go on!"
Sending me away? Claire called me, and now this? Her rudeness irked me; I glared. Her expression was off—apologetic eyes, subtle head bows. Mouth forming silent words: 'Sorry. I'll explain.'
Felt played, but the cat was out. No business or gossip now; I'll let it slide once.
"Alright, I'll go. Talk later."
"Yes! See ya!"
"Ah... Huh? Professor? You're leaving? Now? Sis! Let go!"
"Yep! He's busy!"
"No, sis, wait!"
"I'll be back soon."
Stella kept subtly bowing apologies behind her sister's back.
*
I explained the department head summons to him.
"I see. Sorry about that."
"It's fine."
If even family Claire's like that, how could the count's house control her?
"Anyway, a question. Claire's the second daughter of House Rackton, right?"
"Yes."
"How's she the heir? In succession, she's fifth of six siblings."
Stella mentioned two older brothers. And one younger. Hell, Stella herself was older than Claire.
The head looked flustered. "You didn't know? Ah, my mistake."
"I don't follow noble houses or their politics."
"But how'd you know they had six kids?"
His sudden gravity hit me. Stella had orchestrated that interruption. Knew I'd ask this.
"Something happen to the eldest son of House Rackton?"
"Died in the civil war."
As expected. But two more sons.
"The second?"
"Fought the eldest over succession. Lost, went to a capital monastery."
"The youngest..."
"First to go. Before he grew up."
Hmm, nearly stepped on a landmine.